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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27733090">Futile Devices</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignis_kun/pseuds/ignis_kun'>ignis_kun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Greater Gatsbies: The Rangami Chronicles [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amami plays guitar, Angst, Blankets, Comfort, Guitars, I guess you could call it angst?, Literal Sleeping Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Rare Pairings, Scars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:22:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,406</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27733090</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignis_kun/pseuds/ignis_kun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Truthfully, he has absolutely nothing to pay Amami back with. Company money is company money, and his money is his money. His money? He has none. </p><p>Nothing. </p><p>Absolutely nothing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amami Rantaro/Togami Byakuya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Greater Gatsbies: The Rangami Chronicles [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Futile Devices</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The google doc versions I make of these fics look so much fucking nicer</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Moonlight softly pours into the room like a wine bottle to a glass of the same namesake, cascading over a pair of men, covered by dark, cool coloured bed sheets, wrapped in one another’s arms, shuffling in their places, sleepless. Neither of them could keep their eyes shut for too long no matter the conditions. Oftentimes, Amami would be restless for the entire night, get up and pace or stare at the ceiling.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Sometimes, Togami will watch him sleep, when he did that was. Listen to him for the most part, his own breathing syncing with Amami’s. It bothers him if they aren’t in sync. Something in his head simply demands that his own chest rise and fall at the same rate as Amami’s.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>In the daytime, it was a shot in the dark at who woke up first. Many days, Togami would find himself staring at the freckles on Amami’s face in the soft sunlight or tracing his hands against the recent scar on his stomach. Stab wounds. Stolen wallets. Hospital. Waking up with a braid in his hair and knowing full well who put it there. It felt almost like a crime to undo Amami’s handwork, but he knows that’s just him being irrational. There was nothing sacred about woven hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He traces across the raised skin, not getting so much as a flinch from Amami. Just the steady up and down rise of his chest. It’s hard to believe it happened so recently, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Togami has always been haunted by gruesome nightmares. He’s grown rather used to them, it’s just a normal part of rest. It’s grown to be a normal part of rest. He knows Amami gets them too. He’s been through the paranoia he gets at times afterwards. He’s been through him thinking there’s someone else there and that he’s in danger. That both of them are in danger somehow. It’s irritating to deal with in the moment, but he knows why. Or has a general idea as to why. Or guesses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It always feels like there’s something a bit deeper. Amami hasn’t told him much about his nightmares, other than they keep him up at night sometimes. Some nights he wakes up, and Togami can hear him crying in the bathroom. Togami’s had his fair share of rough nights, but he hasn’t cried in front of Amami yet. Amami tries not to cry in front of him before, but it was easy enough to stumble upon it sometimes. He’d say he had just gotten something in his eye, or that he hasn’t been crying at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s taking it all in tonight. He’s taking in each scar, each little speck of light coming through. This is his, most likely, last night with Amami. No, he’s certain it is. He grazes over the scar again. He’s not sure why he’s so enraptured with it. It’s just a scar, that’s all it is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Truthfully, he has absolutely nothing to pay Amami back with. Company money is company money, and his money is his money. His money? He has none. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Absolutely nothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It ticks him off. It keeps him up at night. Everything he worked for, his entire life for, is completely gone because of one impulse decision. He couldn’t understand why Amami would want to live a life like that, seemingly just following wherever his instincts take him next. No methodical planning, but there’s certainly something he’s looking for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He just doesn’t know what, no matter how deep he digs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sits up a bit, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring for before</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amami stirs from beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Byakuya?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t realized Amami was awake. He turns his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s hard to place when they had started calling one another by first name. If Togami remembers right, it was shortly after Brighton. A month or two after. Togami had just slipped up and called Amami by his first name, and he simply returned it by beginning to call him Byakuya. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s funny how quickly that changed. If they weren’t acting like a couple before then… well. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t sleep?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Togami shuffles</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No… I can’t.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rantaro pulls him in a bit closer, and Togami becomes acutely aware of the warmth of his breath and hands, his body and his voice. The smell of expensive cologne, his own. Had Amami borrowed it? No, no he hadn’t. Or at least he hadn’t asked to.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Want to talk about it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knows Amami would say the same. Neither of them ever want to talk about it. It’s better to leave it up in the air. Talking about it means being exposed, more than they already are to one another. Peeling back another layer is not something either of them is ready for or have the words to say anything about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But they’re comfortable with each other, comfortable enough that just laying together can help ease a racing mind or spirit, ground them to the mattress and sheets. They don’t need to talk about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a warmth here, burning hot like a fresh cup of tea that dares burn his tongue when he drinks too quickly, or the fireplace back in his old home. It’s still weird not considering it his anymore. He abandoned it. Most of the money too. Thinking about it again makes his blood boil a bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He brings the blanket up a bit with his free hand. A bit of the chill from the sea has started to get in. The season is slowly shifting into winter, and he can feel the cold from outside. A small draft. Was there even heating on this boat?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dark, velvety blue curtains waft a bit with the wind. Ah, of course. Amami left the window open again. It’s something he’s always insisted on. Something about sleeping better. Something about it feeling more natural to him. Togami’s always had the windows closed. Not by choice or something being “natural”. It was because the windows couldn’t be opened. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Cold?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Amami’s breath feels even warmer against his neck. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I could always bring out more blank-”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No. I’m fine.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You’re starting to shiver.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A pause.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go get them. And quickly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amami slowly unwraps his arms, another hearty chuckle filling the air. He always took things with such a grain of salt, no matter how harsh he was. No matter how harsh anyone was to him. He’s been called a colourful array of words in the past and just laughed it off and would make his own small remark, sometimes even bordering on the line of self-depreciation. He would take anything that was thrown at him, shrug, and say it’s not a big deal. He’s never seen Amami get full-on mad or ticked off. He’s seen him upset or irritated, but not outright angry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He watches as Amami makes his way towards the linen closet, propping himself up on his elbow. The image of him gets blurrier and blurrier, turning from the defined figure of a man with a t-shirt and baggy sweatpants to a complete blur of tanned and freckled skin without the aid of his own glasses. Just shapes obscured in the dim light of the boat and moon. Green is the colour he focuses on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amami turns back from the closet, a few fluffy throw blankets in hand. He can make out shades of dark blue, white and black, shimmering in the moonlight, their colours barely displayed in the dim lighting. For some reason, he thinks back to earlier in their trip, watching Amami look up at the sky, at the moon during the middle of the night. Or seeing him sleep on the couch when he got up, mind wandering and in need of an escape. Eyes shut, moonlight pouring over the few blankets he had brought out for himself that would be cast onto the couch during the morning like throw blankets. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He never looked truly at rest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sit up for me?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Togami props himself up on the edge of the bed, shoulders far too tensed up as if he were starting to shrug. As the blanket goes around him, he allows his shoulders to fall and a small deep breath is released. He can feel a hand linger on his shoulder for a little too long than what would be considered normal atop the blanket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The black blanket itself, with a fuzzy white underside which he hadn’t noticed before, is wrapped around his shoulders. The blanket feels much heavier than he expected it to. Upon closer inspection, he realizes Amami had only been holding two blankets. The white wool inside is soft. A bit worn, clearly not new by any standard, but soft. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Amami smiles, taking his prior spot.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“It’s warmer with the layers, yeah?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course it is. Isn’t that obvious?”</span>
  <span> He mutters. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“It’s only gonna get colder. Soon enough you’ll probably be buried in these, huh?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Togami huffs. He knows it’s true. Togami has never enjoyed the bitter cold, though the overwhelming heat of the sun has never been for him either. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s being too kind to him. Far too kind. It’s the type of generosity that would easily get taken advantage of. He knows Amami is wiser, however. He’s kind towards people, but he’s seen how he looks back at every turn. He knows the world is an awful place, just as Togami does. He is no buffoon or idiot. He knows who he wants to trust and who he shouldn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He seems to trust him. How misplaced that is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bandaid needs to be ripped before it grows too attached to the skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td>
<p><span>“Thinking we should head over to Canada. It’s still a bit cold, but nothing too much.                                    <br/>Cancelled with the hotel in Brazil, too far away to get there tomorrow...”   <br/></span></p>
</td>
<td>
<p><span>                      Togami drifts off to the sound of Rantaro’s voice, an odd pit feeling in his stomach growing by the second.</span></p>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td>
<p><span>Amami plays the guitar the next morning.                                                                                                                                       <br/></span></p>
</td>
<td>
<p><span>It’s the next morning when Togami starts packing like he’s some kind of madman or a newly drafted soldier that leaves for the war that very same day.</span></p>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table><p> </p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clothes, when had he had so many clothes? When had he lost it all around here? Toothbrush? That got thrown out awhile back. Wallet? At the bottom of the suitcase already, with the same amount of bills he had left home with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guitar strings have slowed, but Togami doesn’t realize. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Footsteps start approaching, but he’s more focused on the disarray of his items around Amami’s boat. Shirts, shoes, did he bring more than just one pair of shoes? What had he bought? What had he </span>
  <em>
    <span>brought?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guitar strings stop. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>More footsteps. Togami is still oblivious like a kid elbow deep in the cookie jar. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>What had he brought?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>What was Amami’s?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was his?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What was he supposed to take? </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>What had he brought?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>What was Amami’s?</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What was his?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What was he supposed to take? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The footsteps finally enter the room, stopping at the doorframe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why are you packing? We aren't stopping anywhere for a while y'know? I thought I told you I cancelled with the last hote-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Togami turns around and speaks before that sentence can be finished by Rantaro. Just rip off the bandaid. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Rantaro.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He looks off to the side.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’ll be blunt with you for a moment.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Yeah?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I don’t have anything to pay you with.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rantaro doesn’t move much, just stands in the doorway, leaning up against it for a few moments. But he doesn’t seem phased. Not in the slightest. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“ I know you don’t have much to pay me with. Company money, yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You…?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I know. I don’t care about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rantaro, I don’t think you quite understand the gravity, I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> for you.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Togami’s hands have stilled at this point. He’s known this entire time? And he’s never brought it up? Now that Togami really does think on it, Amami’s never asked him to pay for much of anything, he’s never mentioned money or cost. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> Togami doesn’t have as much as he might think. It makes sense. It makes so much sense now, all of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care about it. You don’t have to give me anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How could you not care?”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s what people do for the people they love, right?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That shoots him right in the chest like a bullet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You..?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I love you. Yeah.”</span>
  <span> He laughs again, a soft smile spreading across his face, </span>
  <span>“I really love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>There’s a weight to the words here. It doesn’t come as a surprise to him at all, but what does come as a surprise is that the words feel genuine, and they’re said without apology. Without hesitance, without shame.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Togami thinks he’s an absolute idiot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You can't just let yourself blindly follow any whim you have because of 'love'."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But what if I could?"</span>
  <span> Amami's moved from the door frame, </span>
  <span>"That's what I've been doing for a while now, yeah?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Togami's hand is being held now. When did Amami get so close? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"If it's the money you're worried about, I don't care."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How can you be so... </span>
  <em>
    <span>aloof </span>
  </em>
  <span>about this? How can you not care?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He places one hand over Togami’s hand, cupping it and shrugging his shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I was looking for compensation I would have asked earlier. I wouldn’t have let you come with me if I expected to be paid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hand is dropped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But if you want to leave, I’ll take you back home, no issue. I’m not gonna keep you here if you wanna be somewhere else, y’know?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Words do not cross between them for a minute. He can tell in Amami’s eyes how much he’d like for him to keep his two feet on the ground, right where they are. An anchor on the chain. But the anchor breaks off, leaving the chain with his hands by his sides. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So you love me?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. Yeah, I love you." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice lowers. </span>
  <span>“You don’t have to say it back. I just want you to know. You deserve to, yea?”</span>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Such a damned sap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, you don’t have to tell me again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>..</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You too, Rantaro.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amami almost looks surprised.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t make me say it again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll think about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rantaro nods, wordlessly leaving the room and going back out onto the porch. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <span>              He tunes his guitar.      </span>
  
  <span> Togami watches from inside the boat.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
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